That's What You Get When You Fancy A Weasley
by UndefinedLines19
Summary: Maximus Thomas wakes up to an angry Roxanne Weasely armed with a frying pan and an attitude. It's funny how instead of romance, teenage hormones often result in broken friendships and hearts.
1. Introducing Ms Roxanne Weasley

**Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter, I'm not making money from this. I'm just some poor bored girl writing for fun. **

The sun shone through my curtains at an angle. Highlighting my face, and making it impossible to stay asleep. I'd had a long night making excuses to Lucy as to why we needed to break up - for good. She eventually accepted that I 'needed to focus on Quidditch and N.E.W.T.s'. I know better though, she isn't _really_ okay with us being just friends, she's waiting for the year to be over. I've got one up on her though. I don't intend to get back together with her after Hogwarts. Why not? Because I'm in love with my best friend.

And why not be in love with my best friend? She's brilliant. She's got this burgandy hair that's wild after Quidditch practice that I'm dying to try getting my hand to run through, even though I doubt it will work. She's got these amazingly long legs as she is a decendent of two genetically tall pureblood families. Her eyes, though merely dark brown, seem to change when she plays Quidditch. Her skin tone the exact same color as peanut butter, yum

I was trying to sleep, trying to fall back into dreams of these eyes, when I was suddenly in excrutiating pain on the left side of my head. I don't remember whether the pain or the sound came first, but I do know that when my eyelids flew open in automatic response a pair of dark brown eyes was staring down into mine with passionate anger. I personally wish it was just passion. Startled, I said -quite simply- "Ouch!"

"Good! Your awake." She stood with her hand on her hip, wearing a blue camisole and a pair of knee length pajama bottoms. In her right hand, she held...a frying pan? Her eyes were on fire as I stared into them. She lifted her pan again, and before I could move or try to stop her she began hitting me again. "WHERE," -hit- "THE BLOODY HELL," -thump- "WERE YOU?"

After her first question, I just stared at her, stunned. She's never hit me before. Never. I don't think she's ever even been truly angry with me. Whatever I'd done, it apparently was serious though or she wouldn't be in the 7th year boys' dormitory, with sleep hair, half naked boys, and a frying pan. I shook my head, "Sorry?"

She sighed indignitely, "Where-were-you? We had PRACTICE last night!" She poked me in the nose with end of the pan. Realizing my disadvantage, I slid out of bed, her weapon still pointed at me. My eyes darted between her and the pan. "I'm sorry, I forgot," I said honestly.

She lifted the pan for another shot, but apparently got distracted by my bare chest. It took her a second, but she recovered and took aim at me again. I grabbed the pan on it's way down to contact with my body.

"I said sorry, Roxy-"

"Don't you call me Roxy, MAXIMUS!" I flinched both at the use of my name and at the volume of her voice. We'd been best friends for 7 years, both set on making the Quidditch team. Once she'd made captain, like her mother, Quidditch became more than a game, it was a lifestyle.

As she lifted the frying pan once more, her muscles flexed slightly, reminding me further of the nearly trecherous thing I'd done by missing practice. I dodged her attack, then grabbed her arm to stop her from doing it again. She was strong though, or rather, I was weak on account of her proximity and her being in pajamas.

"Are-you-SERIOUS?"

"Roxy, shh!" I gestured towards my dormmates, Theodore Nott III, Lance Finnegan, Kyle Diggle, and Jamie Corner. Her voice was deadly, "You dare skive off Quidditch Practice, call me a name you KNOW I hate TWICE, then tell me to shush! You...you ARSE! Did that girl suck all of the sense from your brain!"

Whoops.

From anyone else this question would be deemed rhetorical, but this is Roxanne Weasley, so it was expected that I respond. "Erm, no?" She looked at me hard, and for a moment I thought I could see something different in her eyes. She spun on her heel and walked towards the dormitory door with a last comment, "I don't think I know who you are anymore." Her curly hair bounced as she turned the corner, not bothering to close the door back. I just stood there, until I noticed my roommates had been awakened. Nott whistled. "When did she get boobs?" I gave him an annoyed 'back off' look as Lance gave me a sympathetic one, saying "That's what you get when you fancy a Weasley."

**A/N: I was thinking about making this a two-shot. Thoughts?**


	2. Christmas Gifts

**Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter, I'm not making money from this. I'm just some poor bored girl writing for fun. **

I wasn't too worried about Roxanne's attitude at first. She'd never been angry with me before, but we were best friends so her irritation with something as trivial as Quidditch would pass. Or so I thought.

It was the last day before we left to go home for the Christmas Holiday, so Gryffindor was having a huge party, naturally. Lance and I climbed through the portrait hole, wondering aloud what Rebecca Hales would wear that night. She always wore very little clothing to parties, leaving everyone -both boys and girls- in shock.

Expectantly, Rebecca was wearing a very short skirt with a very tight v-neck and a pair of very, very high heels. She was dancing provacativily with Jamie, who was so obviously entertained. Lance and I stood on the wall, grinning and smirking. My smirk disappeared immediately when I saw Roxanne decend from the staircase with her fellow chaser, Hazel Bell. She was wearing really nice jeans and a white sweater. Her hair was still curly, but you could tell she charmed it to fall rather than stick out in odd places. She smiled at something Hazel said and I thought I might die on the spot. She was walking towards the fireplace when Nott seemed to materialize out of nowhere and grab her hand. She blushed in a startled way and swiftly lifted their hands and twirled underneath before letting go and shaking her head politely. I felt my nostrils flare. I could break Nott in half if Headmaster McGonagall -and Roxanne- permitted it. He was a nice kid, but had a reputation for going through a number of girls, and Rox seemed to be top on his list now that he noticed she'd acquired boobs. As she moved closer to Lance and I, I caught her eye and she pursed her lips, her eyes turning to slits. Hazel looked at me funny, like she was expecting something, while darting her eyes between Roxy and I. Clearly I'm missing something.

Other than the fact that Roxy avoided talking to me all night, the party was a lot of fun. I wished she would talk to me, since Nott pretty much stalked her and she keep looking at me. The train to Platform 9 3/4 wasn't much different either. She would walk past my compartment, -sometimes alone, sometimes with Hazel- giving me disappointed looks. I didn't know what to do.

The biggest problem came Christmas Eve. I'd already gotten her present. Something I knew she'd love, but also something dear to me. I took our pictures of Quidditch matches, the ones of just us, and made a scrapbook. It was cheesy, but I'd been planning it for months. The only problem was I wasn't sure if she would accept my gift. How hard was her resolve? Were we even still friends?

During dinner my dad noticed something was off as I'd apparently been moving my food around my plate and looked uncharacteristically solemn. I didn't tell him what happened but somehow he knew it had something to do with Roxanne and gave me the oddest piece of advice I'd ever received: "Marry your best friend." He looked straight at me, fork still midway between his plate and mouth, brown eyes serious and still as if looking into my soul.

I Apparated to the Weasley's early the next morning, not too long after opening my own presents. I was nervous, my heart beating furiously and upon knocking thought I might pass out. Her dad answered the door, red hair sticking out in odd places and an almost creepy grin upon his face. "Hello, Max! Didn't think we'd be seeing you this Holiday." I blinked. Her dad normally liked me, but today there seemed to be a reluctance in his voice. It scared me to death. "H-hello, Mr. Weasley, erm -erm. I was wondering if Roxanne was in?" He seemed to be holding back a laugh, but called her, yelling, "Rox, the Keeper is here!" The Keeper?

She took her time getting to the door, then leaned against the frame looking up at me. Her brother could be seen in the background, face set, obviously eavesdropping. "Rox-Roxanne, could we, erm, walk?" I was distracted now by her eyes, the darkest brown I've ever seen. Her hair was straight today, and framed her face so that her features looked smaller than normal. She sighed, blowing a lot of air out of her nose and rolling her eyes. She grabbed a coat, a hat, gloves, and boots from the cupboard near the door. After sliding everything on, we walked out into the cold winter air, a few feet apart. "Happy Christmas," The first words she'd spoken to me in a week, her voice was lighter than I expected, like all of her anger was gone. I half smiled at her. "Does this mean you're speaking to me again?"

"I never stopped, Max."

"Oh really?" I said skeptically.

"No, I was making sure I didn't say something I'd regret." "Why would you do that?"

"I was angry."

"Really? I thought you just sent daggers at me through your eyes and knocked me upside the head with a frying pan because I was your favorite person ever."

She looked down, "I guess I wasn't thinking clearly that day, I don't know."

I snorted, "Obviously. Did you know you could have given me a concussion! There's got to be something else wrong besides me missing Quidditch practice." She looked me square in the eye and said, "Nope."

It was a blatent lie, and Roxanne doesn't lie, so I didn't question it, assuming it was for a good reason. The silence was slightly awkward, so I handed her the wrapped scrapbook. She took it from me, but didn't open it, just looked at the wrappings. She was breathing through her mouth, making little clouds appear. It seemed like ages before she looked back up at me. "You got me a gift." "Yes..."

"Even though I was angry and wouldn't speak to you. Why?"

I wracked my brain for a witty, yet non-sarcastic remark, but nothing came. So I just said, "You're my best friend," She blinked, "and I wanted to apologize prop-"

"You're forgiven." She still stared at me. Hard.

"Rox, will you please just open it?" She looked at me suspiciously, but then yanked the wrappings from the book. I could see her trying to fight a smile at the cover, and when she looked back up I noticed her eyes had changed to a lighter shade of brown.

"Thank you. It's perfect."

"You haven't opened it yet."

"I don't need to in order to know it's perfect." I blushed and she seemed to contemplate something before nearly knocking me over in a hug. She smelled heavenly; like Christmas and broomstick polish and some sort of flowery scent. I didn't have time to figure out what the last scent was before I was surprise by her lips quickly pressing against my cheek.

She had _never _kissed me before. _Ever._

But I recovered in time to notice her blush a little and dig into her pocket. She took out a tiny parcel, but when I went to grab it, she held on to it for a moment. "I didn't know I would be speaking to you this Christmas, or if I would get you a gift, and there was so much going on - it's nowhere near as good as yours."

"It doesn't matter, Rox."

She handed over the parcel and I opened it. Inside were a pair of expensive - looking dragon hide gloves specifically made for Keepers to have better grip when catching the Quaffle. I stared at her, confused about whether I should be ecstatic at such a great present or angry that she probably spent all of her money on me. "Well...do you like them?" She asked nervously.

"Rox, it's the best present I've ever gotten..but how on Earth did you afford them?" She shifted in the snow a bit.

"I've been saving for them since fourth year."

My jaw dropped. I was really angry now, but at myself. She spent a fortune to buy me such expensive keepers gloves and I hadn't even gone to practice. She may have forgiven me, but there was no way I could forgive myself. It would seem only fair that I at least tell her why I missed practice.

I sighed and rubbed my face with both hands before saying quickly. "I didn't just blow off practice. I was ending things with Lucy. She blinked at me. "So...you missed practice... for a girl?"

"Yes."

She seemed to be loosing patience. Good thing she didn't have a frying pan.

"Oh."

With the disappointed look on her face, I couldn't keep my secret any longer. Everything: the gloves, Christmas, the snow, her eyes, Nott, seven years of friendship was just too much for me to add on to the top of the one thing I was sure of in life. I was more sure of this fact than a hag is ugly: I loved Roxanne Weasley.

And in that moment, I came up with the witty, yet romantic response that I was searching for earlier. "But, I _always_ go to practice for a girl as well..." She looked at me blankly, and took an extremely wild guess, "Oluga Midgen...?" I had to laugh at that.

I couldn't hold it any longer, I had to spill the beans.

"Rox, I broke up with Lucy because I realized I'm in love with you."

Silence, the winter air taking over.

And then she broke into the most radiant smile I think I've ever seen, "Really?" I shook my head in disappointment that she had do little faith in my word. "Yes Roxanne! Unless you'd rather have me run off with Oluga Midgen!" Before I could make a face at the thought, she tackle-snogged me.

All I have to say is, thank Merlin she didn't have a frying pan.


End file.
